Sterek Drabbles
by cornflakesareglutenfree
Summary: I write drabbles. This is a place where I'll post them as I write them. (From my tumblr, most likely.) I take prompts in my askbox there. (cornflakesareglutenfree./ask)
1. 5x stiles wanted to and 1x derek did

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**Art fic for this post: **

cornflakesareglutenfree

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1. He sat in class, knowing in his rational mind that he should be paying attention, that he'd need to know this information for the test on friday, but he couldn't glue down his thoughts, which may or may not have something to do with the empty adderall bottle that was currently residing in the bottom of his backpack, but that was neither here nor there. All he could think about was how Derek had pinned him to the door the other day, how his breath had smelled of cinnamon and coffee, and how badly he'd wanted to lean forward and find out if he tasted the same. He'd controlled himself, of course, but he still couldn't shake the thought. He rather liked cinnamon, and Derek's lips looked so soft, and then there was- **"Billinski!"** Stiles sighed and turned back to the board, deciding that no matter what Scott needed after school, his first stop was the pharmacy.

2. They sat around the table in Scott's kitchen, talking about 'pack' things, and prep for the coming battle, or whatever, and Stiles pretended to be researching for them, googling his butt off, and maybe it wasn't really pretending, cause he'd found some pretty decent information so far, but what really had his attention was Derek sitting next to him, nearly leaning over his shoulder, and the scent coming off of him, which was absolutely sinful. Whatever deodorant/cologne/aftershave combination he used was putting him in serious danger of a Stiles mauling. Just then he was saved from embarrassing them all by a sudden exclamation from Erica.

3. Sitting in the jeep, trying not to watch Allison's car rocking side to side, and feeling generally worthless at his lack of backseat gymnastics, he nearly peed himself when there was a slam against the passenger side, and then the door yanked open, nearly off the hinge, there was suddenly a passenger seat full of sweating shirtless Derek. "What are you…?"

Derek reached into Stiles' backseat and grabbed a t-shirt that had been discarded there who knew how long ago. Stiles' protests were silenced by a dangerous look from the domineering wolf. "Do you have any water?"

Stiles gave him an unimpressed look before digging into his lacrosse bag, which was also in the back seat, producing a bottle, glaring at him the whole time. "What are you doing? Why are you out here all…. unclothed?"

Derek gave him a crooked glare. "I'm not unclothed. I just took off my shirt to throw them off the scent. I got rid of them, but not for long. I needed Scott, but not enough to break that up." He motioned to the other car, and Stiles could relate. You couldn't pay him enough to get within 20 yards of Scott with no pants on. "Why are you here, anyway?"

Stiles grimaced. "I'm his ride. His car broke down, and I wasn't about to let him drive my baby, but he has this look, and it's like my kryptonite, and so here I am. Sitting in my car like the loser that I am while my best friend has sex in the next car over."

Derek gave him an intense look. "You're not a loser."

Stiles scoffed at him, rolling his eyes. "Yeah, sure. We'll see how well that's worked out for me when I die a virgin." He nodded his head matter of factly, done with the subject, then nearly jumped when Derek leaned close, sniffing at his neck before taking the water bottle and putting it deliberately in Stiles' hand.

"You won't die a virgin, Stiles. And you're not a loser." He was suddenly out of the car before Stiles could even catch his breath, and he leaned on the open window, head just inside it. "Tell Scott to find me, alright?" and then he was gone.

4. Stiles stared down at his homework, wishing it would just do itself. When would he need to know how to conjugate latin verbs anyway? His gaze traveled over to the window, and there was a wisp of motion at the tree line, and even though he was sure it was just the wind, or a bird or something, the thought was still there. _Derek_. Derek's scent, his breath, his sweat slick skin. Stiles swallowed hard, wondering again what it would feel like to have lips pressed against his own. How it would be to feel the possessive clench of hands on him, and be able to breathe it in, knowing that you were craved by someone else. He was jarred out of his daze when books were slammed down on the table next to him, and he was suddenly aware that he was still sitting in the very public school library.

5. His breathing was labored, biting down on his bottom lip as he clenched and tried to bite back a moan, one hand on his dick, the other on his balls, tugging and rolling and squeezing until he was a writhing mess, sliding around on his bed. A sudden flash, a momentary ghost of an idea, the fantasy of Derek pressing him into the mattress, hands all over him, lips and tongue and teeth commanding his attention had his vision going white, his body seizing as he came. _Derek._

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6/1. He'd known it was too good to be true. He'd gotten the invitation to the party, and had convinced himself that this was his chance with Lydia, but just as she was asking him to dance, guess who decided to show up but Jackson, taking all of her attention, and Stiles' hopes with him. Stiles had stood, awkward and aimless for a long minute before he'd told Allison and Scott that he was just gonna go home and sleep. They'd tried asking him what was wrong, his coloring was off, but he just forced a grin and told them to enjoy the party.

He couldn't go home. His Dad was there, and would ask how it had gone, and he didn't think he could lie right now. So he drove, unsure of his destination until he pulled up at the trail head, deserted in the night, but so familiar that it was calming to him. He dug in the backseat, grimacing at the filthy t-shirt Derek had wiped himself with, tossing the water bottle, and finally finding a warm jacket under a pile of papers and wrappers, dragging it on and exiting the jeep, walking to the bridge over the creek.

The sound of the water, the cicadas, and the woods was soothing, and perfect. His senses were so zapped that he didn't realize he wasn't alone until there were footsteps on the wood, slowly moving towards him. He turned, squinting, his heart suddenly beating faster, but then the figure stepped into the moonlight, and Stiles could make him out, and he sighed, turning back to the water, leaning on the bridge. "What are you doing here?" He didn't look at Derek, but he knew he could hear him.

Derek didn't answer, just moved to Stiles' side, reaching out to take his arm, pulling him upright so he was facing him. When Stiles stubbornly wouldn't look him in the face, he forcibly gripped his chin, bringing their faces closer than he realized. "Why are you here? What happened?"

His silver green eyes were searching, and Stiles forced himself not to look away. "Why do you care?" His voice was choked, his eyes suddenly full of emotion again that he struggled to control.

Derek's face softened even further, but his fingers only tightened when Stiles tried to pull away. "Tell me what's wrong." His hands were laced tight around Stiles' upper arms, tugging him closer than was probably appropriate.

Stiles scoffed. "You've never cared before…" He sighed, staring over Derek's shoulder. "Alright, fine. I was just reminded yet again that the universe has it in for me, and that I will never be anyone's first choice." His voice was flat, belying the moisture gathering at his eyes. "I guess some people are just meant to be alone, right?" He chose this moment to glance back to Derek's eyes, shocked to find them regarding him with clear disagreement. "Whatever. I get it, I just-"

"Shut up, Stiles." Derek's hand went to Stiles' neck, turning his face up, and pulled him in, letting himself sink into the kiss, moving his lips against Stiles' mouth slowly, sliding and sucking gently, enjoying the softness and fighting away the chill of the night. He pulled away to murmur between them, "I told you that you wouldn't die alone."

Stiles could barely breathe over the shock of the moment, but muttered back, "No, you said I wouldn't die a virgin."

Derek laughed a little helplessly before tugging Stiles back in for a deeper kiss, licking at his lip, moaning a little when he was met with nothing but eager acceptance. He pulled away the tiniest bit to respond, "Well maybe I can take care of that, too."

The next day, Scott would ask about Stiles' hickey, and why he smelled like Derek, and Stiles would just grin like an idiot, but for now, there was kissing to be done.


	2. mixing business with pleasure

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**Art fic done for this:**

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"Mister Hale, the numbers just came in from the Argent case, and it's not looking good. They're not bending, and I've just gotten a call from Allison Argent's people, and it looks like they've been entertaining offers from other companies, and I need to know our next course of action, Sir."

"Shut the door, Stilinski."

"But Sir, I.."

"Shut. The. Door."

*click*

"Now lock it. Then remove your clothes and come over here."

*squeaks* "But Sir, I don't think…"

*growls*

*lock clicks shut, clothes fall to the floor, the thunk of shoes being removed*

"Closer."

"Sir?"

"Why do you always call me that?"

"You're my boss?"

"Fine. You wanna play like that? Bend over the desk, and we'll see how obedient you can be to your boss."

*rustling, panting, drawer opening and closing, moaning and growling*

"Fuck, Derek, ohmygodohmygodohfuckohfuckoh fuck"

"Now you remember my name, huh? Where's the Sir now?"

"GoddamnitjustfuckmeohgodDere k."


	3. become the beast

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**Art fic for:**

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Stiles knew it was strange, and if they were ever caught, he could possibly go to jail, or a mental institution, but he couldn't bring himself to care. It was Derek, and it was him, and he just couldn't feel anything wrong about that.

The first few times they were together, Derek had stayed in his human form by sheer force of will, biting down and through his lip once, clawing into the bed, or the floor, or the wall, (they weren't picky about location, okay?) but Stiles could tell that it was difficult for him, and that he wasn't letting himself enjoy it fully, so he'd brought it up in conversation, telling him that it would be alright if he just let himself go, that Stiles wanted to be with him in every way imaginable, and wanted for him to be able to lose himself to the pleasure of them together, and of course Derek had stubbornly said no, and had tortured himself through fucking Stiles into the floor of his bedroom one more time.

Stiles was face down, panting and crying out, watching Derek's fingertips transform into claws involuntarily, watched him scrabble for control and purchase on the floor boards as he tried not to change, and Stiles had had enough. He leaned to the side suddenly, reached for that clawed hand, and sunk his teeth in, _hard_. "Just fucking change, already. Now."

It happened quickly, the groan at the back of his neck quickly turning into a legitimate growl, the breaths growing hotter and fiercer, Derek's chest hair becoming longer and softer, and Stiles watched in fascination as the hand at his mouth changed from pale skin and minimal hair to the furred, muscular limb of a wolf. Before he was able to feel any apprehension, Derek was thrusting into him again, and Stiles cried out.

It was so much better, so much more intense, and he could feel the shaking in Derek's body as they came together, and just as Stiles wondered if he could die from pleasure, Derek started licking at his neck, long laps of his rough tongue, and then the tiniest scrape of extended canines had Stiles coming hard. Harder than he'd ever come before, feeling like every nerve in his body was in an electric current, connected to Derek, and then his vision went white and spotty.

As he came back to himself, he could feel Derek's skin changing, his fur disappearing as he slumped half on, half off of Stiles, and Stiles turned his face to sling an arm over Derek's neck, pulling him in for a sloppy kiss. "We are so doing that again. Oh my God." And when Derek grinned against his mouth, a sadly hopeful look on his face, Stiles could only groan at him softly. "I love you."


	4. i'm so sorry, stiles

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**Art fic for: **

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Stiles heard the door handle at the top of the stairs and cringed, but even that tiny movement brought a sharp pain, so he stilled, trying to keep his breathing even and slow, mindful of the ache and creak of his ribs where they'd been abused. His hands and wrists were raw and tight under the bindings, but he didn't move as the door was opened and closed.

Footsteps moved down the noisy steps, but they were careful and measured, so it wasn't the same brute who'd been down here with him before, and the guy's boss had been quick and sprightly, though he'd been blindfolded when she'd been here, so he'd only heard her, and felt the slap of her hand against his face. That had been the least of his problems, though.

He came back to the present when the intruder became visible from the corner of his eye. His vision was tight and blurry from his swollen face, and all he could make out was a dark figure, dark clothes. Then there was a sharp breath and a familiar voice breathing out his name in a shocked gasp. His head started to turn involuntarily, but he stopped abruptly when his vision started to blur and there was a darkness at the edges of his vision. He stilled. "Derek?" His voice was gone, eaten away by his screams, so all that came out was a hoarse rasp, but it was heard.

"Stiles? How did you get here? You're not supposed to be here." He came around into Stiles' vision, and Stiles drank him in, a sense of relief nearly overwhelming the terror that had had him locked for days.

"I-" He tried to answer, but he started to cough, and his whole body seemed to seize at the movement, his abused bones and fibers and muscles all screaming out at the reflex.

"Shhh…. I've got you. Don't talk." Derek's voice was tender while still being gruff, and Stiles could sense anger radiating from him, but not directed at Stiles. Derek's hands were gentle as he traced the bindings, but when he was unable to find the ends, he growled in his throat and let his claws extend, letting the supernaturally sharp tips slice through them.

Stiles sucked in a breath carefully, suddenly able to extend his lungs again, and moaned in pain and ecstasy. He felt the tears coming, whimpered as the salt of them hit the cracked wounds on his face.

There was a butterfly soft pressure on his face, and the sting was receding, then a hand on the back of his head, and he cried out as he felt a wash of relief, and the tears came faster. "Derek." It was just a rasp, same as before, but the edge of pain was weaker, and Stiles cracked his eyes open to catch Derek watching him with such pain on his face, such self hatred as he'd never seen him bear, and then Derek was kissing him. It was so soft he wasn't sure it was there, but he could see him so close his vision was blurring, so he let his eyes slip shut again, pressing forward just the tiniest bit, letting Derek feel his acceptance of it.

"Stiles, I'm sorry." Derek whispered the words against Stiles' lips, remorse and repressed anger coating them like tar. "I'm so sorry I didn't protect you."


	5. genderswap & shhh!

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Stiles felt the doorknob slam into her hip as she was thrust back against the door, Dericka's tall form following, her hand curved over Stiles' collarbones, her tone dangerous. "You're going to do exactly as I say, got it?"

Stiles gritted her teeth, ignoring the reaction to the searing intensity of Dericka's closeness, and certainly paying no attention to the tingle from her hand pressed so tight to Stiles' skin. She shrugged, reaching out to straighten Dericka's jacket mockingly. "My house, my rules." She glanced up, meeting her eyes, and held the judging stare, wishing her stomach wasn't full of furious butterflies.

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**Fic for gif: **

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"Quit moaning! They'll hear you upstairs!" Stiles tightened his grip around the base of Derek's cock, licking a path from the head to his fingers and back again before engulfing the leaking top back into his mouth. He could tell Derek was trying not to make any noise, but it was difficult for him. His clawed hands were gripping the metal side rail of the futon they were supposed to be sleeping on in Scott and Allison's basement. "Shhhh…" He bobbed his head, hearing how Derek's breathing had suddenly gotten erratic, and knew that he was close. Two more pulls of his hand, working the length of his dick, and he came with a shout muffled by the pillow he'd bitten down on.

Stiles wiped his chin, glaring at his boyfriend. "You ass. Now we have to buy them another pillow."

Derek grinned, unrepentant, staring at the ceiling. "Not my fault you're so good at that." He reached for Stiles with claw free hands. "Your turn."


	6. real or not real?

Anonymous Prompted: Awkward conversation between Derek & Stiles about existence of knots.

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"Well are they real, or aren't they? Cause I gotta say, the internet is pretty mixed up on the issue, and that's something I think we should discuss before we get to that point, and 'SURPRISE'! Ya know?" Stiles was dead earnest as he stared at Derek, waiting for his answer, and so he caught the pained look that Derek cast him.

Derek was waiting for the floor to open up and swallow him whole. "Stiles…"

"No! You agreed to be honest and open about this kind of thing! It's in the 'Relationship Code' or whatever. Fantasies and sex questions alike." He lifted his eyebrows, giving a sassy head tilt.

Derek groaned, covering his eyes with his hand. "God! Fine!" he started talking fast, wanting to get it over with, keeping his hand over his face, knowing that if he tried to make eye contact with Stiles now, he'd lose it and escape through the window, and they'd have to have this conversation later. That, at least, was something he could be certain of with Stiles, he always got his way.

"Knots are part of mating, which happens during heat, and that only lasts for a week each spring. My wolf will recognize the scent of my mate, and I'll have an urge to penetrate them, and yes, my dick will… expand… and stay that way for a little while, but it's supposedly not painful, since werewolves are meant to be having sex with humans, so it all… anatomically… fits… I guess." He sighed deeply, moving so his forearms were on his knees, his head in his hands, holding it as if it were causing him pain. "Anything else?"

Stiles stretched in his seat, eyeing his boyfriend from across the room. "Well, now that that's over, and I have confirmation that I'm not going to be split in half my first time, you wanna try something new?" His eyes were wicked when Derek looked up, and then he was flying through the air and landing on his mattress with a bounce, laughing into Derek's mouth as he was manhandled into a kiss. "I guess that's a yes?" He said as Derek scraped at his throat with his scruff.

"That's _definitely_ a yes."


	7. shoulders

art fic for:

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He didn't even realize he'd been doing it until Stiles asked. It had stopped him, and he'd just mumbled something about habits, and brushed it off, but it had stayed with him. Because it wasn't just a habit, or a reflex. Looking at these lost kids, these teenagers who were all he had in the world, he felt like there was a place that needed filling for them, and so he emulated the only thing he had, a memory.

His Father had always been there, at his back. His broad palm cupping a shoulder, ready to reign him in for a hug if need be, or just add proof of his presence, giving strength and support. When he'd run his dirt bike into a tree and was huffing back tears as his mom pulled his arm straight so it would heal right from the break, Dad was there, holding him, securing him. When his little sister fell down the steps and he held her in his lap, their Dad, a hand on each of them, wrapping himself around the two of them together.

He remembered wanting that presence, needing his Dad's strength, as he lay in the bark dust sobbing with Laura six years ago, and realizing that he'd never feel that pressure, that comfort again. When he'd graduated high school, when he got out of college, when he had to deal with the loss of Laura, trying to figure out how to stop the mad man his uncle had become, he missed that one secure connection.

So now he did the best he could. He was there, doing his best to emulate the very best man he'd ever known. He was sure that most days he didn't come even close, but some days, he thought that maybe, just maybe, he could feel a broad palm cupped around his shoulder, and had a moment when it seemed like maybe things could be okay.


	8. high on stiles

Prompt: texts from last night post at:

rinnwritesfic.

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/cornflakesareglutenfree-the-sheriff-made-his

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The Sheriff made his way to the door, dragging his bottle of jack along with him, the remaining inch of liquid sloshing in the bottom. There was banging and yelling coming from the porch, but Stiles was listening to music upstairs and probably hadn't heard it.

He threw the door open, seeing a shirtless Derek Hale on the porch, head tilted back and a reddish glaze over his eyes. Huh. He must be pretty far gone, too. The Sheriff shook his head, trying to pay attention to what he was shouting, but losing interest and motioning at the stairs and moving back to the kitchen, leaving the door open and the Hale kid standing there staring at him oddly.

Alcohol didn't make werewolves drunk. Marijuana, on the other hand, had a very grand effect. Derek wasn't sure how he'd gotten to Stiles' house, since his car didn't appear to be in the driveway, but he stood on the porch, yelling Stiles' name, pounding at the wall, but there was no response for long minutes, and he only grew more agitated.

"Stiles Stillliiittsskkkkeeeee I need to talk attt youuuu!" He shook his head. That hadn't come out right. No matter. "You and your sasssss, and you're such a tease and I've had enough and I really think I need to fuck you so my brain will stop hurting, and my dick and Hello, Sherrrrufffff when'd you get there?" He watched the older man eye him, then back away, motioning at the stairs, so he glanced around him, as if the invitation had been for someone else on the porch, but he was the only one there, so he looked around again, then followed him, closing the door softly behind him before climbing up the stairs.

He opened Stiles' door, not bothering to knock, and when Stiles turned around, he grinned.

Stiles leaned over, breathing in a whiff of Danny's cologne, and pointed out the problem he'd been having with the equation, but then his door was shoved open, and he glanced up, expecting to see his Dad, or maybe even Scott, but a shirtless, shoeless Derek was stumbling into the room, making his way over to the bed, and falling face first. "Derek? Uh.. what are you doing here?"

There was a mumble into the pillow, then Derek tilted his head to the side, spitting out the mouthful of pillowcase and looking at Stiles blearily. "Your Dad let me in, now come over here and let me fuck you so I can think again, kay?" And then he collapsed into the bed, snoring loudly.

Stiles shared a long, mortifying glance with Danny before they both burst into laughter.


	9. soon

Prompt: gifset/manip at:

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"Wait." Stiles felt his heart pounding in his throat, but he knew that if he didn't say it now, he'd never get the courage up again. He realized he was still holding Derek's arm and met his eyes again. "Stay."

Derek could hear Stiles' heart beat speeding up, but it didn't feel like fear. "Why would I stay?" His eyes narrowed. "Stiles, if this is another-"_Oh._

He hadn't been expecting Stiles to launch himself across the center console, yanking his jacket closer, and slamming their mouths together. After a long moment of shock, Derek tore his arm out of Stiles' grip, moving to cup his face with both hands, tilting his head so he could line their lips up, pressing in to taste him.

Stiles was completely out of breath and nearing giddy when Derek finally pulled away, sucking in oxygen as Derek moved down to suck and bite at his jaw and neck, turning him into a shaking mess. "You know, this is a little bit awkward, maybe we should…"

Derek moved his head a fraction of an inch, his hot breath gusting across wet flesh as he spoke. "Do you want me to stop?" He licked a path up to Stiles' ear, his words getting softer. "Because that would be a damn shame."

Stiles bit down on his lip hard, eyes slamming shut as Derek sucked at his earlobe. "Stop? Fuck, no! I meant the jeep. Don't get me wrong, I love my jeep, she's my baby, but she's not exactly…" He whimpered as Derek found a particularly sensitive bit of skin just behind his ear. "…exactly… comfortable… and I just… your camaro is right there, and the backseat is a lot… bigger…" he moaned in protest when Derek pulled away, opening his eyes when there was a rush of cool air and Derek was gone, the passenger door slamming shut.

He looked around, confusion and lust dulling his senses, but then the driver side door was being opened, and Derek was reaching across him for his seat belt, and then he was being manhandled out of the jeep and into the back seat of Derek's car, slid in on his back before Derek followed, closing the door behind him and tossing his jacket in the front seat.

Derek set his knee between Stiles', moving over him, catching his mouth in a hard, desperate kiss and pressing them together. He pulled away, panting. "Much better. Sometimes you have good ideas, Stiles." and then he was sliding down to Stiles' neck again, working at a particularly sore place that would most likely be a bruise in the morning.

Stiles couldn't keep his hands to himself. He had one in Derek's hair, clenching down on the strands, while the other was inside the back of Derek's shirt, coasting over the muscles of his back. He tried to concentrate on the sensation, finally being able to touch after so many months of looking, while still relishing the sensation of Derek's mouth, but then Derek started rocking down, grinding their jean clad dicks together, and Stiles' thoughts were gone.

"Derek." It was a plea, couldn't be considered anything more with the way Stiles was rocking up, movements stilted and untried.

Derek moved back enough to tug his shirt over his head, tossing it into the front seat with his coat, before moving his attention to Stiles' belly, tugging his shirt up, but not removing it, just hooking it below his armpits and mouthing at his abdomen, moving upwards, scraping at his chest hair, sliding with his mouth to his right nipple, not teasing this time, but biting gently before sucking it in, loving the way Stiles was reacting, his whole body engaged, even as his mouth tried to form words, ending up with semi recognizable speech mixed with a steady stream of moaning and pleading. Derek moved his hand to grip Stiles' erection through his jeans, grinding his own against Stiles' hip, squeezing. "You can come, you know. I won't think badly of you if you jizz in your pants."

He took a moment to appreciate the ragged moan that elicited from Stiles before resuming his attention at his chest, moving to the other side, then just as Stiles' mumbling changed, becoming more frantic, his hips going stiff, Derek slid up to kiss his mouth again, sucking Stiles' tongue into his mouth, worshipping it as he planned on doing to his whole body at some point soon, but that wouldn't do in the back seat of a car.

Stiles was just sliding down from his orgasm, still lost in the wonder of the reality that he'd just gotten off with Derek Hale when he realized that he hand't exactly gotten off with Derek, since Derek was still rocking against his hip, hard and fast, and his eyes fluttered open just in time to see Derek go still, his eyes flashing red and his canines extending as a low, feral growl left him, his head tilting back on his neck, and Stiles was left staring in fascination.

Derek felt the hands on him, sliding gently, before he fully realized just where he was. It had been a long time since he'd hooked up, even longer since he'd come in his pants like a kid, but he figured it fit, since he felt like a green kid when he was around Stiles. He moved up from where he'd collapsed on him, putting his weight on an elbow so he could look Stiles in the face. "You okay?"

Stiles couldn't wipe the grin off his face, but it wasn't sharp at all, he was all soft angles and happy edges. "Yeah." His voice was soft. "We get to do that again, right?"

Derek grinned, leaning down for a kiss at those swollen lips. "Not tonight. Some of us still have a curfew."

Stiles ran his hands up to wrap them both in Derek's hair. "But it'll happen? If not tonight, then soon?"

Derek slid his mouth to the spot behind Stiles' ear that had made him weak earlier, laving it with his tongue. "As if you could get rid of me."

Stiles was sure he'd be grinning for the rest of forever, and he was okay with that. "That's my line." He said, shivering at the tease at his neck.

"Well I guess you're rubbing off on me."

"In more ways than one."


	10. to shave'a da face

Anonymous Prompted: Sterek & Shaving… Stiles shaving Derek and I just a;dsfgpasod. Please.

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"If you don't shut your mouth, I'm taking that razor from you."

"Dude! Quit moving! You agreed to this, and I'm almost done anyways. Besides, singing along helps me concentrate."

"Stilllessss…."

"Growling at me won't make this go any faster. Now quit moving!"

*huffs*

"To cut'a da hair…"

"Stiles."

"To trimm'a da beard…"

"Stiles…"

"To make'a da bristle, clean like a whistle.. HEY!"

"There! You're done, and I'm shaved. Now, shut the hell up, or I'm gonna shut you up."

"Well that's not very nice, Derek and I Mmmfff. Oh." *moans*

*growls*


	11. photography 101

prompt: photoset and prompt

rinnwritesfic

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/cornflakesareglutenfree-knotateenwolfblog-i

~o0o~o0o~o0o~

Stiles watched him with a grin on his face. The brooding, scowly faced guy clicked the shutter, sending the flash off directly in his face, and Stiles couldn't help the laugh that erupted. The scowl was then redirected in his general direction, but Stiles could tell from his rapid blinking that he'd been blinded by his own camera.

Deciding to take pity on him, Stiles moved closer, not bothering to hold a hand out, since it almost looked as though the other man would take a snap at him, with teeth, rather than a camera. "Hey, if you need some help, I could give you a hand."

Derek growled under his breath, not looking up, but shifting so his shoulders pointed the other way, making it clear what he thought of his classmate's offer of assistance.

Stiles wasn't defeated, though. He was far too used to being rebuffed initially to let it phase him. "My name is Stiles. I took two years of photography in high school, and we had to use these dinosaurs, with all manual handles, and sometimes they'd stick, and we'd have to dismantle the whole thing." He was met with an obnoxiously raised eyebrow, so he quickly came to his point. "So I was just thinking, that if you needed help, I could give you a hand. Do you have a name?"

Derek had been expecting ridicule, or at the very least a barbed joke, and was caught off guard by the wide smile and seemingly genuine offer of help. "Derek. And why would you take this class if you've done photography classes before? I mean masochism is one thing, but this…" he scowled down at his camera again.

Stiles decided that it must be a standard look on him, and bit back his grin. "I like taking pictures, and I'd like to do that as my career eventually, but the classes that I wanted were full by the time I registered, and this one was open, so here I am. Why are you in here if you hate it?"

Derek glanced up again, looking a little sheepish all of the sudden. "It's a prerequisite to the journalism class I want. I had no choice."

Stiles grinned, finally sticking his hand out for a shake, now that it appeared that Derek had his eyesight back. "Well, I think we've just become friends, so now you have something to look forward in this class, yeah?"

Derek flushed a little, and it made him scowl, but he met Stiles' hand to shake, then stared at their hands, taken off guard by the feeling evoked by the contact. He sucked in a breath and pulled his hand back when he realized what he was doing, and met Stiles' eyes. "Yeah, I guess." He felt his cheeks getting warmer as Stiles grinned at him, and he nearly dropped the camera again, suddenly off kilter.


	12. sugar i'm goin down

Daughterofscotland prompted: Sterek, serenading

~o0o~o0o~o0o~

When Derek pulled up the hill, he could hear music, his super-senses giving him an early heads up as to Stiles' mood. It was something that had helped him countless times in their relationship, the ability to hear what Stiles was listening to from far off, and gauge his behavior accordingly.

Today it was Fall Out Boy, and that could only mean one thing. Derek was gonna get laid. There was a bounce in his step as he grabbed his bag from the passenger seat and made his way into the house. They'd remodeled the family house during Stiles' senior year, and when Stiles had graduated with his teaching degree and moved back to Beacon Hills, he hadn't even bothered moving in with his father, instead 'camping out' in Derek's bedroom until Derek had forced him to unpack into a dresser and the closet.

He kicked off his shoes, dropping his bag and his keys in the entry way, staying quiet as he made his way down the hall to the kitchen archway. He peeked around the corner, catching sight of Stiles checking pasta. It apparently wasn't done, because his next move was to use the wooden spoon as a microphone and dance across the room, his socks sliding on the hardwood.

Performing a particularly successful spin, he caught sight of Derek leaning in the doorway and moved to grab him by the hand, never pausing in the song. "Don't mind me I'm watching you two from the closet, wishing to be the friction in your jeans." he spun Derek, smacking his jean clad ass along with the lyrics, and Derek couldn't help but laugh, spinning back to grab Stiles by the hips, shoving him into the wall of cupboards behind him.

Stiles was panting, grinning unashamedly into Derek's face, still singing, mostly on key, when Derek shut him up with a hard, passionate kiss. He pulled away, and spoke over the music. "Fall Out Boy, huh?"

Stiles leaned forward, speaking directly into his ear. "Let me get the spaghetti out, and then I'll race you upstairs, wolf boy."

It was _on._


	13. water

Ginjaninja1 prompted: Sterek! What if Stiles always had a fear of water, but he still saved Derek in the pool, and then Derek finds out about it later (post S2) when everyone goes to the beach or something and that he jumped in to save him anyway

~o0o~o0o~o0o~

They were all piling out of the cars, grabbing their bags and coolers, and making their way down to the sand, the conversation loud, and the mood jovial. Stiles and Erica tossed out the picnic blankets, weighting the corners, and Scott started jumping up and down in place. "Who's jumping in with me? Isaac? Erica?"

They both nodded, and Derek tossed his t-shirt onto his backpack. He'd gone twenty feet when he realized that Stiles hadn't come with them, was, in fact, settling onto the blanket with a book. "Wait, why isn't he coming with us? There's nobody out here, it's not like somebody needs to babysit the stuff." he moved as if to turn around and go back, but Scott caught him by the arm.

"Don't bother. He won't get in. Terrified of water." Scott turned back to the ocean, dropping the subject, but it stuck with Derek.

~o0o~

After lunch, they were playing a game of beach volleyball, and Derek took a moment to pull Scott aside again. "Why is he afraid of water? Are you sure it's that bad?"

Scott glanced over to where Stiles was getting a lesson from Erica on proper pitching technique. He looked back to Derek, squinting in the bright sun. "You really don't know? About his Mom?" When Derek shook his head, he took a deep breath and continued. "His Mom drowned when he was ten. She was on a bridge, and there was ice, and this big truck slid and pushed her over the guard rail. Ever since he won't go into water deeper than a bath tub. Used to have these crazy bad panic attacks. Look, I don't know how he'd feel about me talking to you about this, and we should probably get back to the game."

Just before Stiles tossed the ball up, he shouted at them all that werewolf powers were against the rules, and they all laughed at him, and the game was back on.

~o0o~

Derek purposely situated the ride home so that he and Stiles were in the Camaro, with the back seat full of coolers and blankets, and everyone else piled into Erica's car for trip. They were about a third of the way into the almost four hour drive, and Stiles was changing the song on his ipod when Derek finally spoke.

"I asked Scott why you didn't go into the water with us." he waited for Stiles' reaction, glancing over at him, to gauge his expression.

Stiles froze. "I put my feet in after the volleyball game. It's not like I was being a spoil sport or anything." he looked back to his ipod and hit select to whatever was on the screen, then staring out the window.

As the Cardigans began playing through the speakers, Derek stewed on what to say. "He mentioned something about panic attacks, which confused me, since you held me up in the pool that night for how long exactly?"

Stiles was twitching, picking at his fingers, running his hand over the interior of the door, scratching at his neck, until Derek reached over and covered his hand. He finally looked back over at Derek. He sighed, tugging his hand back, but he started to talk. "I didn't have much choice, alright? You were paralyzed, and you were going to drown. And where would we all be if The Mighty Alpha died? So I did what needed to be done. End of story."

Derek shook his head, letting out a humorless laugh. "No. Not end of story." He glanced over and caught Stiles' eye. "You could have gone into a panic attack, Stiles. What then? What if you had drowned too? I would've been fine. I would've healed, the whole werewolf thing, remember? Cutting us in half, the whole bit? It's not that easy to die. But if you got hurt..."

Stiles grimaced, thinking back to countless lacrosse practices where he'd ended up under a pile of sticks and teenage boys, and then forward to being manhandled by Allison's grandfather, and he was twitching again. "It wouldn't be the first time, or the last. I'm a human, remember? It's kind of my job to get hurt."

Derek shook his head, but went back to his main point. "I don't understand, though. How were you able to handle the pool water, but you can't handle swimming with your friends?"

Stiles started picking at his seatbelt, not looking up. "You were in danger. It wasn't the water that was the focus of my fear that day. It was something happening to you. I had to do it. I don't know how it works, but I wasn't afraid of the water that day, just you dying in it."

Derek looked back at the road, quiet for a long moment. "Oh." And then he was quiet with his thoughts for the rest of the ride home.


End file.
